Paid to sleep with my Ex

Fifth day is hell

Aakash rolled on the bed for the upteenth time sighing loudly. His arms and legs flailed in the air, again and again, refusing to give up any time soon.

The weird sensation was getting worse, touching the point where he couldn't bear it anymore. Rubbing his face in frustration, he glanced at the wall clock at the far end of the room which had a dim blue bulb right above.

It was 5 minutes to 3. He sat up.

He was tired. He had tried everything he could think of, stretching his muscles, hugging his folded knees to the chest, folding the hands and legs backwards, pressing onto them as much as he could at his back. Nothing worked.

He was low on iron and his RLS was a known issue, what was different from all the years and now is that, she was there till five days before, to hold him down, draping her legs over his, checking on him till it subsides and he falls asleep.

He got up and started pacing across the room, praying that it would pass soon. He didn't want to embarrass himself walking over to his father's room at this ungodly hour. Heck he would never mention this to the elder,  a grown man in his forties asking his dad to cuddle him-.He slapped himself to stop his chain of thoughts.

Reaching for his phone, he scrolled through some old pictures to distract himself from the tingles that ran down his calves, which turned out to be a bad idea, as his gallery was full with pictures of food (don't judge him, okay?), a wide range of cuisines from golgappas to quesadillas and more. Now he was hungry too.

Frustrated pro max, he threw the phone on his bed, heading to brush his teeth. It was already past 4 and his sleep was long gone. His legs did feel a little better but not fully good. And his hunger got the best of him, he washed up and brushed his teeth, then went straight to the kitchen, grabbing the infamous pack of maggi.

He crushed the block of noodles  before opening the pack, he never liked them long. Emptying the content and the taste maker in a pan with water, he brought it to boil. His impatient ass grabbed the hot pan away from the burner and soon he started chugging down on the piping hot noodles, straight from the pan.
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“You're doing it again, Kashew!” she hissed from behind him, startling the man out of his skin. He turned around, a spoon shoved half way into his mouth, eyes wide as saucers, facing her.

Ridhima walked past his dramatic self, not without slapping his back lightly, “thought you can finish it without telling me? You've had your share, what's left is mine”, she huffed, grabbing the bowl from the kitchen counter and moving towards the dining table, nudging him away with her hips as she walked sassily.

Aakash hopped on his tiptoes right behind her, whining like a kicked puppy, the spoon still between his teeth. “Pweashe?” he would keep nagging the girl who turned her back to him, savoring the chaat her husband prepared in the middle of the night. She might have admitted it a lesser number of times, but can never deny, his hands made food turn into magic.
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Aakash smiled at the thought, they did have a fair share of good memories. And his smile faded sooner, they should have done things without labeling their relationship as husband and wife. Things would have been better that way.

He didn't realize when he slept, as he sat on the kitchen stool, leaning his head on the counter right next to the now empty pan, it started drying out and he surely remembered dreaming of getting scolded by his father for pan, the lights, and whatnots. Well, what to say, it was a good morning.